Imprisonment

Now that the baby gates are up, I've been keeping some stats. Thus far B has made exactly zero attempts to charge through a gate and dive head first down the stairs. I, on the other hand, have stubbed my toe at least 5 times, and have made countless thwarted attempts to go up or down the stairs with a baby, diaper bag, and groceries/other heavy and awkward item. Each time I wind up using a word that I hope my son never repeats.

I am reminded of a school I saw once. It wasn't in the best area of town, so you could understand that there might be an extra layer of security compared to schools found in Pleasantville, USA. The entire property was surrounded by barbed-wire fencing, which although a bit of an eyesore was understandable in the name of the childrens' safety. It took closer inspection, however, to figure out that the pointy parts on the top of the fence were actually facing in. I'm no fencing expert but it appeared as if the barbed wire was there to keep the children contained rather than to keep the bad guys out?? Hmm.

Upon walking into our house, one would assume that the gates are there for B's safety. They would be wrong. They are there to amuse him as he watches us struggle.

"The food and the toys are on this side, dummy!"

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